


childhood dreams

by sunflowersforhyuck (thedawnbeforethesunrise)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship/Love, M/M, Minor Kim Jungwoo/Mark Lee, Pining, Romance, ending is not markwoo tho, markwoo is the bane of donghyuck's existence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedawnbeforethesunrise/pseuds/sunflowersforhyuck
Summary: You glimpse your soulmate's memories in your dreams until the day you meet them.But Donghyuck has never lived through Mark's.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 52
Kudos: 285
Collections: Challenge #3 — soulmates





	childhood dreams

**Author's Note:**

> for a little wonder fic fest :> the mods have my heart
> 
> (( song title inspo: childhood dreams - seraphine (orig. artist: ary) ))

Donghyuck has only ever experienced his own memories, never anyone else’s. 

It’s not because he’s forgotten. Memory dreams aren’t the kind you’d forget. They’re wrapped in touch and taste and smell, gripping you by the skull and shoving you into the reality of your other half, the person you’re meant to complete. Intense and beautiful, lighthearted and euphoric, terrifying and painful—it's sensory overload that electrifies you and makes your mind vibrate. Donghyuck has heard his friends talk about it many times throughout his life, about how they’ll wake up still smelling smoke or feeling someone’s arms around them. He’s a fly on the wall, the liquid shine on the outside of a bubble; present, but not living in it.

Donghyuck has never had a memory dream. Not a single one. It’s because he has no soulmate. 

Did it bother him? Sometimes. When he slips into bed in the early hours, exhaustion wearing heavy on his skeleton and scratching at his eyes, it bothers him then. When he goes to school and sees Chenle and Jisung, it bothers him. When he walks to the convenience store and he sees his neighbor or a man smiling at his phone, or a pair of kids happily chatting, it bothers him. 

He forgets when he’s with Mark. It’s a bit ironic, because if the right person asked Donghyuck who he would want as his soulmate, he would easily say that name: _Mark Lee._ But when he’s actually with Mark, there is no room to think about what he’s missing. 

When he was younger, he would say memory dreams are bullshit because he lives in the memories of Mark every single day. He wakes up with a hollow skull and trots across his unkempt lawn to go to Mark’s house, two houses down across the street. Mark fills him, completely and warmly, with that obnoxious laugh and innocent bewildered face and those round, marble eyes. Mark takes that empty skull and throws in everything he can think of, all the tastes and smells and touches of the world. He gives it all to Donghyuck, no questions asked.

It’s not real, though. 

⇄

They’re all gathered at Mark’s place. 

Monopoly is the chosen game for the night. It’s been several hours, but Jeno still owns most of the properties on the board. Renjun is relentless, but Jaemin has already given in, laid out on the floor with his head in Renjun’s lap. Chenle and Jisung have joined together to take on real estate mogul Jeno. 

Mark is scheming. Donghyuck can tell by the way his lips are pressed together, the corners slightly downturned. Round eyes glimmer in the singular lamp light of the room, gaze darting here and there as Mark scratches his head and frowns more. Donghyuck can’t stop himself from smiling. 

He doesn’t say anything, but he slides his fingers along Mark’s forearm, a simple trick to get him to loosen up. Mark becomes boneless through his touch, melting like the way Donghyuck wishes it is because they are meant to be. Those round eyes dart to look at him and Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “You looked way too serious over fake money.” 

“I’m just trying to play the game.” Mark reasons, blinking owlishly. The whine in his voice means he’s being defensive. 

Donghyuck takes his fingers and fiddles with Mark’s. 

They end the game because Jeno is practically God at the rate he’s going. Conversation comes easy with Donghyuck’s first friends. There is never tension when they’re together, never any discomfort or fear of hurt feelings. Familiarity holds them together in a well-knit blanket. 

Donghyuck notices things, though. He sees when Chenle would explain something and Jisung is already beating him to it, running over the story to finish it because he knows it; of course he does, they’re soulmates. And when Jaemin dips his head, Renjun will know whether or not to hold him or touch his cheek. Those little things are all part of the unseen bond, of having knots that are stronger than any blanket time could ever knit. And Donghyuck is thrown back into it, the never ending nightmare of being half of a soul. 

_But I know Mark like that._ It’s almost desperate, teetering on pathetic, for him to say he knows Mark the same way Chenle knows when Jisung wants to go home. He can’t help it though, not when it’s the closest he’s ever been to someone. Every microexpression, every smile, eye crinkle, and nose scrunch, is categorized in endless flickering white index cards, rolls and rolls of Mark in Donghyuck’s hollow skull. He knows Mark like he knows how to breathe, like how his voice effortlessly bends around notes. Mark could look at him and Donghyuck would know what he’ll feel in the next second. 

They’re laughing about something, but Donghyuck misses it. He doesn’t miss Mark’s smile. 

⇄

Mark’s soulmate is Jungwoo.

Something nasty tears through Donghyuck whenever he sees Mark with the boy, an ugly festering wound that nurtures poison in his skin. It’s been this way ever since Jungwoo moved into their neighborhood, around when Mark was thirteen and Donghyuck was twelve. By then, their friendship had solidified, but that didn’t matter. Mark had been having memory dreams since he was five, and while Donghyuck had been hoping that Mark would one day wake up and realize his soulmate was actually someone who had been there all along, he knew it was all over the day Jungwoo stepped up to Mark’s doorstep to introduce himself. 

Most of all, Donghyuck hates the way he feels too stretched out, too tense and frantic, when Jungwoo is there. The dissonance of his two conscious thoughts, acceptance and challenge, create friction that rubs him raw. 

Today, they’re all working on something for a club festival. Jungwoo is really good at folding paper flowers, and Donghyuck hates the way something dull and painful roots in his chest as he fumbles to get it right, petals crooked and misaligned. Mark is equally as terrible, but Jungwoo makes up for that. 

“Donghyuck, I can’t wait to hear you sing for everyone at the festival.” Jungwoo is an angel, all tissue paper skin and light brown eyes.

 _But your voice is better._ “Ah, thanks. I’m kind of nervous.” 

“Don’t be. I’m so jealous.” Jungwoo’s broad shoulders fall as he sighs. “Your voice is beautiful.” 

Donghyuck has to grit his teeth. The irony screams in his tense posture. 

It always feels like there is something to prove. Or maybe there isn’t such a thing, because soulmates are absolute. It doesn’t soothe the ugly feeling of redemption though, of wanting to show how much better of a half he is for Mark than Jungwoo. Donghyuck lets self-deprecation seep into his skin, lets the feeling dictate his actions. 

It’s delusional. The minute Mark met Jungwoo, their dreams stopped occurring, a definite sign of soulmates meeting each other; memory dreams only exist to aid you in finding the other end of your soul. And the way Jungwoo seems to have a tell, a way under Mark’s skin, the way Mark would do anything Jungwoo wanted...that is something Donghyuck cannot have. 

He dreams of Mark, but he’ll never see the inside of his head. 

⇄

Sometimes Mark would look at him and Donghyuck wouldn’t know why.

Maybe they’ll be hanging out on Mark’s bed, legs dangling off the side and heads against each other, and then Donghyuck will be chattering about something ridiculous that annoyed him or a song he wanted to sing. In that moment, he always feels Mark’s eyes, a little glimmer and something else, a smile that is almost nonexistent. 

“Are you admiring me, Mark Lee?” 

Mark is blinking fast. “Huh? No.” 

“You can, if you want to.” Donghyuck shrugs. “I’ll allow it just this once, so get a good look in.” 

Donghyuck has always been good at this, talking like he’s right and hiding that he’s terrified. When Mark laughs like starburst and tousles his hair in response, it makes him think for just a second that the universe took a turn for the better. He gets confident in these times, thinking his relationship with Mark will break the confines of how the world works. 

But then Jungwoo is the singular fire, a seed which blooms something within Mark, until flowers overrun him in beautiful petals. Donghyuck can’t deny that Mark has become a better person since Jungwoo arrived. With every passing day, there is a dash of something that Donghyuck doesn’t know, a streak of lavender or vermillion on Mark’s pretty sunshine portrait. It scares him and he’s scrambling to keep up, to continue being the person who knows Mark best. 

It’s like being an ant, a creature trying to live its fullest life, making changes they believe are significant, only to realize that they’re playing with God. Nothing will change. Soon, the day will come when Mark becomes someone Donghyuck has never met, a Mark that has been refurbished and repainted.

“Don’t leave me.” Donghyuck murmurs into Mark’s shoulder. 

Mark scoffs and squeezes his cheek, loving and soft. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

But what is ridiculous, Donghyuck wonders. Is it that Mark will never leave him, or is it that Mark was never his to be sad about? 

⇄

“I think you need to take a step back, Hyuck.” 

There is a sharp edge to Jeno’s soft voice, laden in the words which cut Donghyuck’s exposed being. They’re doing homework together, books and papers strewn like orbiting planets. 

Donghyuck swallows. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not good to be hung up on someone, especially if they’re not your…” Jeno doesn’t finish, but the final word hangs above them on a noose. 

“I’m not hung up on Mark. Stop saying that.” 

“I’m just making sure.” A pause. “You do know he’s leaving soon, right?” 

Donghyuck thinks some part of him, the fabric of his tattered and lonely existence, tears harshly. “What did you say?” 

Jeno’s dark eyes brim with something pitiful. It makes Donghyuck angry. He demands an answer with a nasty voice, but Jeno doesn’t let it get to him, steady like a boulder. “Go ask Mark. You’re gonna wanna know this.”

⇄

The Mark he knew wouldn’t do this to him.

Donghyuck used to know everything. He was the moon hanging in the sky, the one that would be privy to all of Mark’s secrets. He used to be the one by Mark’s side.

Mark is leaving for a while. 

His hollow skull is full. It’s brimming with tears and serrated insults and stinging glares. His ears ring with the shouts of someone he loves, shouts of disappointment and rage. He had shoved Mark when they argued about him leaving town to follow Jungwoo to college. This year is Mark’s last year of high school, and he’s moving away after he finishes. “I have to go. Jungwoo is leaving and—” Mark was a wreck, flushed under soft flesh. “I can’t not be with him, Hyuck. Don’t you get that?” 

His words were a whip swinging wild. “Do I get it? Do _I_ get it? That’s kind of fucked up to say to _me_ , of all people.”

“Donghyuck, I—“ Mark’s throat closed around his words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” 

“No, you’re right. I don’t get it. I won’t ever get it.” 

Mark looked visibly hurt, pretty round eyes fragile. “You don’t need another person to be complete, Hyuck.” 

“But I still need someone.”

He hopes no one can hear his thundering heart, feel the pulse of red on his ears. 

Donghyuck can’t bear to look, but he already knows what kind of expression Mark has blurred on his face. Something sad and troubled, conflicted. 

He wishes he didn’t live in Mark’s days and words. 

⇄

“He wants to see you. You know, spend time before he leaves.” 

The end of the school year is approaching. They haven’t spoken for weeks, and the other boys are starting to get antsy for a resolution.

“I don’t want to. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

Jeno stills. “He said he misses you.” 

“I wish he just hated me.” 

“You know he doesn’t. He could never hate you.” 

Donghyuck starts to bleed.

⇄

He wishes Mark could have two soulmates. He wishes Mark could choose. 

But now, he isn’t sure if Mark would choose him.   
  
_Am I even worthy?_

_The universe certainly doesn’t think so._

⇄

On a milky sky day, Mark shows up at his doorstep.

He’s leaving the next day, he says. Donghyuck’s favorite romantic comedy and his favorite jellies are wielded by Mark as offerings. In all honesty, he didn’t need to bring anything for Donghyuck to let him back into his life. 

When they fight, they usually don’t apologize to each other. Most of the time, someone gives in and initiates contact again. It touches somewhere soft in Donghyuck’s emotions when Mark is the one to put down his shield and sword, the ever prideful idiot that he is. They wordlessly go up into Donghyuck’s room, the atmosphere similar to the smoke clearing out after shots are fired, and they watch the movie.

Not even midway through, Mark automatically reaches for Donghyuck’s nape, the edges of his fingers grazing and squeezing with so much affection, it’s euphoric. Donghyuck melts into his side. 

They’ve slid down against the back of Donghyuck’s bed, bodies flush against each other. The ceiling fan goes in circles above their heads, cycling endlessly. Donghyuck imagines time has slowed, and in this pocket of the universe, he believes the seconds are broken down into infinities. In this moment, he is perpetually existing with his only heart, the only soulmate he would ever wish for. 

They’re watching videos, laughing and then singing, bickering about things that won’t matter in the next hour, when Mark sighs into a break in their conversation. “Tomorrow is the day.”

“I’m over it. Good riddance.” Donghyuck says, but it sounds sad.

“Don’t say that.” 

It’s quiet. Mark taps his fingers on the mattress and hums. Donghyuck joins in with words, singing breathlessly. Where their forearms are smushed against each other, it’s too warm. 

“I’m…” Mark trails and Donghyuck can hear he’s nervous. “I’ll miss—” 

“Don’t say it. Don’t.” 

“Why?” 

Donghyuck closes his eyes, breathing out. “I already know.”

 _I know you_. 

_I love you._

They listen to the fan together. Donghyuck tries to keep it together, but time is running him down. He’s scared. His hot fingers grip the sheets like they’ll keep him rooted in this day, in this moment. 

Mark exhales quietly. “I wish I could stay.”

“Do you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re still going to go. At the end of the day, you’ll go home and then you’ll wake up and you’ll go.” Donghyuck purses his lips. 

Mark’s fingers dance on his grappled hand. “I still wish.”

Donghyuck hates all of it, hates that the universe has deemed him unworthy of a complete soul and has told him to fuck off. He hates that his love for someone is irrelevant because they’re not destiny. 

He blinks away hot tears. Mark’s face is pathetically sad. 

“I wish too.” 

“What do you wish for?” Mark’s entire palm now slides over Donghyuck’s hand.

He goes quiet. “A lot of things, but...you already know what I want, I’m sure.” 

The heat between their hands sear promises they can’t keep into each other’s skin, matching brandings that only they know. 

“I...I want to give you what you want.” The words are gentle, as if afraid to be uttered, a reality that shouldn’t exist. 

It is barely spoken into existence, but the confession hangs like a bright neon sign. Donghyuck is washed out in it. 

“Don’t give me false hope. Don’t hurt me like that.” 

Mark’s hand is clammy, but neither of them move. 

Then with a soft voice, “I’m still going to miss you, even if you tell me not to.” 

“It’s not worth the trouble.” Donghyuck has to turn away. His vision blurs. 

Softer still. “It’s worth it to me.” 

⇄

Mark leaves. Donghyuck feels like he’s straining for breaths, like the nonexistent cord tying them together is wrapped around his throat. But it’s just that: nonexistent.

The world keeps spinning in mirrored halves. 

⇄

_Tissue paper skin and light brown eyes._

_Jungwoo. Smiling._

_“Mark, let’s go.”_

_The sea breeze is nice. The sun stretches yellow across the shoreline. Kids run around shrieking and cackling._

_Donghyuck used to be like that, when we were younger._

_“Mark, what’s wrong?”_

_I have to reply. “Nothing.”_

_Ice cream is cold, chattering teeth and hot air from the outside. Donghyuck likes chocolate the most._

_Hyuckie. Hyuckie, my best friend._

_Jungwoo is still smiling. He’s so happy. Why do I feel so guilty?_

_The apartment is pretty. Big windows, modern furniture. We kissed on this couch._

_Donghyuck would like it here. He would probably make himself at home and whine for food. Cute._

_I wonder if he’s okay?_

_“You’re really alright? You seem out of it.” Jungwoo is worried. I made him worried._

_“Yeah, I’m fine.” Am I?_

_What’s wrong?_

_Something is different._

_Is it me?_

_“You can tell me anything.”_

_I can’t tell you this._

_Something has changed._

_Maybe Donghyuck knows._

_He always knows._

_I wish he was here._

_I wish…_

Donghyuck wakes up. 

His first memory dream is one he won’t ever forget. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If this sounds familiar to anyone, it's because I originally wrote something with this soulmate concept for a different fandom and group <.<
> 
> The ending is a lil ambiguous but trust that I like my ships to be together LMAO
> 
> Ty to my lovely beta <3 
> 
> Twt: @sunflowers4hyck :) weee
> 
> Alternative title: hollow skulls :>


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